“I suppose you mean to take this young lad, if he comes, to see all the sights, brother?” he remarked.
“Oh, of course, sir, of course,” replied Trussell, “I must introduce him to the world; shew him all the public places, and public characters, and give him a slight taste of town life.”
“Let it be a very slight taste, brother,” rejoined Abel, sharply, “and not enough to give him an appetite for pernicious food. Our nephew must be perfectly unsophisticated, and I doubt not, from what I hear of him, and indeed know of him, a youth of excellent principles. I think his conduct, in surrendering his estates to his father’s creditors, noble. I have great hopes of him, and if he turns out well, will take care he does not lose in the end by his disinterestedness. But that depends upon himself, and in some degree on you.”
“On me, sir! How so?” asked Trussell.
“Thus,” replied the elder brother; “thus. He is coming to town; you will give him certain introductions; these may turn out to his advantage — may raise him in society, in the world. If so, well and good. But if you only teach him to ape the follies and vices of those of a higher rank than himself — if you make him a weak and frivolous, and perhaps vicious, character; if, in short, you expose him to a test which he cannot bear, I cast him off, and will have nothing to do with him.”
“And provided he answers your expectations, do you propose to leave him a fortune, sir? or to give him one?” inquired Trussell, curiously.
“Why do you ask, brother — why do you ask?” demanded Abel, eyeing him narrowly from beneath his great bent brows.
“Nay; I only ask out of mere curiosity, sir,” replied Trussell, seizing the bottle in some confusion. “I could have no other motive.”
“Hem!” cried Abel, coughing drily.
“I’ll bring you more wine in a moment, gentlemen,” interposed Mr. Jukes; “the bottle is empty Mr. Trussell.”
“So it is, Mr. Jukes,” replied Trussell. “Well; I’ll do my best, sir, to be a Mentor to him, and I hope I may succeed in carrying him through the fiery furnace unscathed. But you must not be too hard upon him if he should be guilty of some slight indiscretion. You must recollect, sir, that we have been young ourselves; and that few men have their passions so much under control as yourself.”
“I!” exclaimed Abel, with bitter contempt. “You are mocking me, brother. But go on.”
“I have nothing more to add, sir,” replied Trussell.
“Then I will speak!” said Abel, in a low, deep tone, and bending towards his brother. “Trussell, one word more on this subject, and I dismiss it. Whether I make my nephew my heir or not, will make no difference to you. What I have done for you, I have done, and I shall do no more. You can have no motive, therefore, for leading him astray.”
“I am grieved to find you should think me capable of such a base design,” replied Trussell, colouring deeply; “but I will take no offence at what you say, I know my own heart and intentions too well.”
“I only gave you a hint, brother,” replied Abel, chuckling, “I know that a shrewd man of the world — that is, a clever scoundrel — would act in such a way; and if he succeeded, would be applauded for this conduct. I am glad you take the caution in good part.”
Here Mr. Jukes opportunely entered with a fresh bottle of wine, which proved in admirable condition; and Abel having expended his ill-humour, the conversation was carried on in a much more agreeable manner for an hour, when both brothers adjourned to the garden, and smoked a pipe in the summer-house. It was a charming evening, and the river, which was studded with boats, presented a lively and pleasant sight. As night drew on, however, Abel, in spite of himself, could not conceal his uneasiness.
“Something must have happened to the lad, Jukes,” he said: “my mind misgives me. He has been robbed, and perhaps maltreated by some of the highwaymen that haunt Finchley Common.”
“Poh! poh! don’t make yourself uneasy,” replied Mr. Jukes. “He’ll be here presently, I’ll warrant him. What has he to be robbed of?”
“Nothing much, that’s certain,” replied Abel. “But it is getting late. It must be near ten o’clock. He won’t even be in time for supper.”
“I’ve ordered supper to be kept back an hour, sir,” said Jukes.
“The devil you have!” cried Abel angrily. “And do you think I’ll submit to such an arrangement? Would you ruin my digestion, rascal? My stomach is as regular as clockwork. Serve it, directly, sirrah!”
As Mr. Jukes departed to see his master’s commands obeyed, he was agreeably surprised by a loud knocking at the outer door, and, waddling thither with the other servants as fast as he could, was enchanted to find the summons proceeded from the expected guest. Randulph’s horse was taken charge of, and he himself speedily ushered into the presence of his uncles, who both welcomed him warmly and affectionately; though Abel could not help mixing up with his greetings some reproofs for his late arrival. Randulph replied that he had sent on his servant to announce him, and account for the delay, and it then came out that the lad had not made his appearance. The young man then went on to explain the motive of his visit to Mr. Scarve. At the mention of this name, Randulph observed both his uncles look extremely blank. Uncle Abel in particular seemed angry and disconcerted.
“You must never go near that house again,” said the latter, at length, in an authoritative tone. “Mark me — on pain of my displeasure, I forbid it.”
“Why so, uncle?” asked Randulph, who had been schooled by his mother to treat Abel with great deference.
“Don’t ask me,” replied Abel. “It is sufficient that I forbid you.”
Randulph felt disposed to remonstrate, more especially as the figure of the beautiful Hilda Scarve rose before his recollection; but Uncle Abel at that moment turning away, his sleeve was plucked by Uncle Trussell, who whispered in his ear, “Do not disobey him, or you will mar your future fortunes.”
Thus advised, the young man made no reply. Soon after this, supper was served, and before it was concluded, Randulph’s groom arrived. Many questions were put to his nephew by Uncle Trussell respecting his sister, her state of health, and other matters, all of which were answered very satisfactorily. The time for parting, however, came, and Randulph was not sorry to retire. The only thing that dwelt on his mind and clouded his satisfaction, was Uncle Abel’s peremptory interdiction against his visits to the miser, and he felt he should have difficulty in observing it.
“It is strange,” he thought, “that my mother should never have answered any of my inquiries respecting Mr. Scarve. She seemed as mysterious as my uncles. I don’t much like the old man. But the daughter is charming. Heigho! I must positively see her again, even if I incur Uncle Abel’s sovereign displeasure.”
Next morning, the uncles and their nephew met at breakfast at an early hour, when the subjects discussed on the previous night were renewed. Now that he had completely shaken off the fatigue of his journey, Randulph looked so handsome, that both his relations were greatly taken with him, and on the conclusion of some remark, Uncle Abel said, as if unconsciously, “He is, indeed, very like his mother.”
Some few hours were then spent by the young man in arranging his little wardrobe, and in looking out some letters which he had promised to deliver. He missed one, however, and after turning over every article he possessed more than a dozen times, concluded he had lost it. What made the matter more provoking was, that he could not recollect to whom it was addressed. As he had received it amongst others from his mother, to whom it had been committed by a friend, he mentioned its loss in a despatch which he proceeded to write to her, and also detailed his safe arrival, and the impressions made upon him by his uncles and Mr. Scarve. Strange to say, he did not mention Hilda; and he could not easily account to himself for the reluctance he felt to allude to her. His letter concluded, he went down stairs, and found both his uncles prepared for a stroll. Accordingly, they all three went forth, and, crossing Westminster Bridge, shaped their course towards Saint J
ames’s Park. As they passed the Little Sanctuary, Randulph could not help gazing towards the dungeon-like dwelling which enshrined her who had made so deep an impression upon him. Uncle Abel noticed his look, and partly divining the cause of it, said, “Remember what I told you. Disobey me, and you will rue it.”
Randulph would have made some reply, but he was checked by a significant glance from Uncle Trussell.
Having passed through the Gate House, they entered the Park by a small doorway at the end of Prince’s-court. It was now noon, and a warm and genial day. The paths between the avenues of trees then extending between this point and Rosamond’s Pond were crowded with persons of both sex, and of all ranks, summoned forth by the fineness of the weather.
Randulph was greatly amused by all he saw, and gazed with much curiosity at all presented to his view. Passing by the Decoy, the party skirted the great canal, and, leaving Rosamond’s Pond on the left, proceeded towards Buckingham House.
Just at this juncture, uncle Trussell caught sight of a gay party approaching, and exclaimed, in a joyful tone, to his nephew, “As I live, we are most fortunate. There is the leader of fashion, Beau Villiers, coming towards us. You shall know him, nephew — you shall know him. The ladies he is walking with are Lady Brabazon and the Honourable Clementina Brabazon: a fine girl, Clementina — a remarkably fine girl; perfect in style and manners — quite a toast among the sparks. The old fellow at her side, Sir Singleton Spinke, was a great beau in his time, though never equal to Villiers, who far surpasses even his prototype, Beau Fielding, in style and taste. You shall know them all.”
“And nice acquaintances you will make,” remarked uncle Abel, sneeringly.
“Never mind him, Randulph,” whispered uncle Trussell. “If you know this set, and they like you, you may know whom you please. Beau Villiers commands all society, from the highest down to — to—”
“Mr. Trussell Beechcroft,” replied uncle Abel.
“Well, down to me if you please,” rejoined uncle Trussell, “and that shews it does not extend too low. But, Randulph, I beg you to look at the beau. Did you ever see a finer man?”
“He is very handsome certainly,” replied Randulph, “and remarkably well dressed.”
“He is a great coxcomb, a great rake, and a great gamester, Randulph,” said uncle Abel; “beware of him.”
“Tush, never mind what he says,” rejoined uncle Trussell, who really wished to have the eclat of introducing his handsome nephew to the great beau. “Come along!”
So saying, he took his nephew’s arm, and hurried him forward. Pushing their way through the throng, when near the sentry box opposite Buckingham House, they encountered the party in question.
Beau Villiers, who was, indeed, a remarkably handsome man, and dressed in the extremity of the mode, wore a light-blue embossed velvet coat, embroidered with silver, with broad cuffs similarly ornamented; a white waistcoat, of the richest silk, likewise laced with silver; tawny velvet breeches, partly covered with pearl-coloured silk hose, drawn above the knee, and secured with silver garters. His dress was completed by shoes of black Spanish leather, fastened by large diamond buckles, and a superb Ramillie perriwig of the lightest flaxen hair, which set off his brilliant complexion, and fine eyes, to admiration. He carried a three-cornered hat, fringed with feathers, and a clouded cane, mounted with a valuable pebble.
Near the beau walked Lady Brabazon, a gorgeous dame of about five-and-forty, and still possessed of great personal attractions, which she omitted no means of displaying. She wore a hoop, and a white and silver satin sack. Struck by Randulph’s figure at a distance, she had pointed him out to the beau, who thereupon vouchsafed to look towards him. Behind Lady Brabazon came her daughter Clementina, a very pretty and very affected blonde of two-and-twenty, with an excessively delicate complexion, fair hair, summer blue eyes, and a very mincing gait. She was exquisitely dressed in the last new mode, with a small escaloped lace cap, her hair curled at her sides, a triple row of pearls round her neck, and a diamond cross attached to the chain; and though she pretended to be interested in the discourse of the old knight, it was evident her regards were attracted by the handsome young stranger.
As to the old beau, he was, indeed, supremely ridiculous. He was attired in a richly-embroidered cinnamon-coloured velvet coat, with fur cuffs of a preposterous size, each as large as a modern muff. His pantaloon legs were covered with pink silk hose; his wrinkled features were rouged and bepatched; and his wig was tied with a large bow, and had such an immense cue to it, that it looked as if a great dragon-fly had perched on the back of his neck. Lady Brabazon was attended by a little black page, in a turban and eastern dress, who had charge of her favourite lap-dog.
By this time, the two parties had met. Uncle Abel drew on one side to allow the introduction to take place, and to witness it. Uncle Trussell stepped forward, and bowing obsequiously to Beau Villiers, pointed to Randulph, who stood on his right, saying, “Permit me to introduce my nephew, Mr. Randulph Crew, to you, Mr. Villiers. He is fresh from the country. But even there your reputation has reached him.”
“I am happy to make his acquaintance,” replied the beau, courteously returning Randulph’s bow, and eyeing him curiously at the same time. “On my faith, your ladyship,” he added aloud to Lady Brabazon, “the young man is not amiss, but destroyed by his dress and rustic air.”
“I really think something may be made of him,” returned Lady Brabazon, in the same loud and confidential tone. “Mr. Trussell Beechcroft, make your nephew known to me.”
“With the greatest pleasure, your ladyship,” replied Trussell, obeying her behest.
“Come with us,” said Lady Brabazon, to Randulph, after the ceremony had been gone through, “My daughter, Mr. Crew,” she added as they passed along. “By-the-by, who was that strange old man I saw walking with you just now?”
“Who?” rejoined Randulph, evasively, for he felt ashamed, he knew not why, of acknowledging his uncle.
“There he is,” said Lady Brabazon, pointing with her fan backwards, “he is staring hard at us, and looks exactly like a bailiff.”
“It is my uncle Abel,” replied Randulph, in some confusion.
“Your uncle Abel!” cried Lady Brabazon, with a scream of laughter. “Then the sooner you get rid of uncle Abel the better.”
Abel could not hear the words, but he heard the laugh, and saw the gesture, as well as his nephew’s confusion, and knew that he was the object of it. He turned away in the opposite direction, muttering to himself as he went, “So, he has taken the first step.”
* * *
CHAPTER IV.
Abel Beechcroft’s Sensibility — His Instructions to Mr. Jukes — A Second Nephew — The Loan — Mr. Cripp’s Sense of Honour — The Bribe.
[A slight, but very important typographical error occurred in the first page of this story in the greater part of the impression of the last number. The date was printed 1774. It should have been 1744. A cancel page will be given to bind up with the volume; but, meanwhile, the reader is requested to kindly to correct the mistake with his pen.]
Uncle Abel returned home by himself about two o’clock, in a very ill humour indeed, and, vouchsafing no answer to Mr. Jukes, who smilingly inquired where he had left the two gentlemen, proceeded at once to the library. Knowing the peculiarity of his master’s temper, the discreet butler left him to himself, but ventured, unsummoned, into his presence in about half an hour, and found him in the act of tearing up a letter, and throwing the fragments into the grate.
“What brings you here, sir?” cried Abel, turning sharply upon him. “I didn’t ring the bell.”
“I know you didn’t, sir,” replied Mr. Jukes; “but I was certain you wanted me, nevertheless.”
“You were certain of no such thing, sirrah,” rejoined Abel, in a tone that contradicted the asperity of his words, “and you presume too much on your long services.”
“I don’t presume too much on your kindness,” rejoined Mr. Jukes, in accen
ts oddly enough compounded of familiarity and respect. “I see plainly that something has gone wrong, and perhaps I may be able to set it right.”
“Well, shut the door. Jukes,” returned Abel, seating himself, “and put the window down, — why was it left open? — you know I can’t bear a draught. What do you think of my nephew?”
“That he’s a remarkably fine young man, sir,” replied the butler. “I haven’t seen a handsomer man this many a day. And Mr. Trussell was quite right when he said he was like your sister. He’s the perfect picture of her as she was when—”
“Nevermind the likeness, Jukes,” interrupted Abel, hastily; “I don’t want to know what you think of his good looks. They’re obvious enough — too obvious by far — for, trust me, whatever you may think of the matter, it is a great misfortune in a man to be too handsome. What I wish to have is your opinion of his disposition.”
“I think it equal to his good looks, sir,” replied the butler, promptly. “It will be strange indeed, if he doesn’t turn out a fine character.”
“Hum!” exclaimed Mr. Abel, with one of his sneers, “so that is your opinion, Mr. Jukes. I thought you a better judge.”
“I see what you’re driving at, sir,” replied the butler; “but it won’t answer with me. You’re displeased with your nephew, and want me to disparage him; but I tell you plainly, I won’t. And if I were foolish enough, and base enough to do so, no one would be more angry with me than yourself. I think Mr. Randulph a very fine young man, and a very promising young man; and I’m truly happy to find, since you’re never likely to marry, that you’ll have such a worthy successor.”
Accustomed as he was to his master’s fitful humours, Mr. Jukes was not prepared for the effect which his words produced, or he would have cut off his tongue sooner than have uttered them. Abel, who was gazing at him fixedly as he commenced, cast down his eyes at the close of his speech, and pressed his hand convulsively to his brow. He remained silent for some moments, and then, giving vent to his suppressed respiration in a groan, walked to the window, and appeared to be looking out into the garden. Mr. Jukes allowed him to remain undisturbed for a few minutes, and then approached him.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 289
